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Althongh by witked hands he died,
With the last hreath be drew “ Father forgive," he sweetly cried,
Himself forgave them too.
Jesus! I hide my bead in shame;
I blusb and weep to see,
No more conform to thee.
O the sharp pangs he underwent,
To clear my guilty score !
No, I'll resent no more!
ļ’ıì seize th’ offending brother's hand,
And call him still my friend; My angry passions I'll disband,
And ev'ry quarrel end.
Why should we differ by the way!
Why should dissentions come ? We hope to spend an endless day,
In one eternal home.
While others their panctilios boast,
Lord, bend my stubborn will; For he that condescends the most,
Remains the victor still.
Fain would I imitate my Lord,
And bear each cross event;
Ilumility's its own reward;
But pride's a punishment.
Come blessed Spirit, beav'nly dove,
Descend on balmy wings;
And strike the peaceful strings.
Jesus, my longing soul shall wait,
And near thy feet adore;
Where discord is no more.
THE SHORTNESS OF TIME AND THE FRAILTTON
ALMIGHTY Maker of my frame,
My days are shorter than a span ;
Vain bis ambition, noise, and show!
Ob, be a nobler portion mine :
VANITY OF LIFE
The evils that beset our path
Who can prevent or cure ?
When most we seem secure.
If we to day sweet peace possess;
It soon may be withdrawn ; Some change may plunge us in distress,
Before to-morrow's dawn.
Disease and pain invade our health,
And find an easy prey;
Takes wings and flies away.
A fever or a blow can sbake
Our wisdom's boasted rule,
A madman or a fool.
The gourds from which we look for fruit,
Produce us only pain ;
A worm uyseen attacks the root,
And all our hopes are rain.
I pity those who seek no more,
T'han soch a world can give ; Wretched they are, and blind, and poor,
And dying while they live.
Since sin has fill'd the earth with woe,
And creatures fade and die; Lord, wean our hearts from things below,
And fix our hopes on high.
ONE awful word which Jesus spoke
Against the tree which bore no fruit, More piercing than the lightning's stroke,
Blasted and dried it to the root.
Bit could a tree the Lord offend,
To make him show bis judgments thus ? He surely had a farther end
To be a warning word to us,
The fig-tree by its leaves was knowi,
But having not a fig to show,
iá Let noue hereafter on thee grow."
Too many who the gospel hear,
Whorn Satan binds, and sin deccives, We to this tig-tree inay compare,
They yield no fruit, but only leaves.
Knowledge, aud zent, oud gifts, and talk,
Unless coinbin'd with salth and love, And witness'd by a gospel-walk,
Will not a true profession prove.
Vidiout tire frait the Lord expects,
Knowiedge will make our stile the worse; The barren irees he still rajects,
And soon will blast them with his curse.
O Lord, unite our hearts in prayer!
On each of us thy spirit send,
And And acceptance in the end.
MARTHA AND MANY.
MARTiia her love and joy express'd,
The principle in both the same,